A/N: Special thanks to Corderbollie for writing this chapter! Check out her work, she is crazy talented!

Bailey rubbed her face tiredly. She shook herself from her spot and grabbed a few things to go clean Bill up with. Few things made her squeamish, unfortunately vomit was one of those things.

She grimaced as she tentatively made her way into the basement. No going back now.

Bill looked a state. He was bloodied and filthy. Bailey swallowed thickly and braced herself for the task at hand. She couldn't help resenting Amy for putting her in this position.

Bill looked up miserably.

Bailey wished she could apologize to him, to express how truly and dearly sorry she was for having this happen to him. It was partly her fault why he was here, after all… but how could she possibly articulate that? How could he ever believe her? And she knew this was only the beginning...Amy would be back eventually, and the horror would start all over again…

All she could summon from herself was a sympathetic look when Bill met her eye, hoping he could see at least some of her remorse. Wordlessly she began to clean the floor, holding her breath, feeling dizzy from the sight and smell of it all. But it was the least she could do for him…

God, there was so much of it. There was no way the basement was going to smell the same again. She considered taking a break, as she was feeling very ill and light-headed by now, but she needed to stay strong, and stay strong for Bill.

In an awkward attempt to make light of the situation, she prodded a particularly big piece of partially eaten ham and asked him, "Are you going to eat that?"

His expression was unreadable, and he said nothing.

She couldn't blame him, of course, but she still thought the joke was funny.

Finally, after a long, agonizing ordeal, the floor was as clean as she was going to get it. She got rid of the bucket's contents, tossed the rags into the washing machine, and scrubbed her arms up to the elbows. She returned back down to the dark, eerie basement with fresh cleaning supplies as she started to clean Bill.

Quietly she wiped his chest and stomach, his face and neck, and then worked tenderly on his still bleeding hands. It was then she saw his broken pinky. Fuck, that must hurt. What did she know about setting a broken bone?

"Your pinky," she said sadly, shaking her head.

Tonelessly, without emotion, he asked, "Do you have something to use as a splint?"

"Um...I can look."

He didn't say anything more. He didn't even look at her.

Bailey went back upstairs and fished through the bathroom cupboards. She found a first aid kit, and it was with a great sigh of relief when she found exactly what she was looking for. She was glad she didn't have to resort to using popsicle sticks.

She returned to the basement, and Bill was still staring blankly at the same spot on the floor.

"I found a splint," she announced softly. Again, he said nothing.

She crouched in front of him with the first aid kit at her side, splint in hand. "Do you know how to use one of these?"

"They taught us in the army."

He began to instruct her with what to do, sometimes with his teeth gritted through the pain, and soon his pinky was set. After that was done, Bailey went about putting antibacterial gel on Bill's cuts. Every hiss of pain made her more and more sorrowful.

They sat together in the dark and the quiet for some time, Bill still looking at the floor behind unfocused eyes.

"Bill," Bailey finally spoke, "I'm so sorry…"

She waited while the air between them grew more bristly. He didn't respond, so she tried again.

"Bill? Talk to me…"

"I'm going to die down here, aren't I?"

He said it bluntly, plainly, with no feeling at all. Bailey blinked, stammering for an answer. She hesitated a beat too long which did nothing to reassure him. He hung his head sadly, and two thick teardrops fell onto his knees.

Immediately Bailey swept to his side and held him, holding back tears of her own.

"No, you're not," she comforted, her voice cracking with emotion, "Everything is going to be okay. You're going to get out of here. We both are."

Bill shook his head and more tears fell. "How? How, Bailey? She's thought of everything."

"I know. But there's got to be something. We have to think. We have to plan."

As if they haven't been doing that already...as if anything they've tried or thought of ended in failure…

But she wanted to give Bill some ray of hope...even if it wasn't enough to convince herself.